Hissy Fit
by Hydromagnetism
Summary: Oneshot. Crackity crack crack crack. "If Sam had known today was the day Dean would finally lose his mind, he wouldn't have gotten up at all."
1. Not My Baby

If Sam had known today was the day Dean would finally lose his mind, he wouldn't have gotten up at all. But, then again, Dean needed support in times like these, especially with the looks some people were set to give him.

The day had started off normally, but it had just gotten worse and worse as the clock hands moved forward.

"Wakey wakey, Sammy," Dean had practically yelled in his ear this morning when his alarm had failed to do it's job, almost causing him to have a coronary.

"_Dean! _Argh, I'm awake! What did I tell you about waking me up like that?"

"Couldn't resist," Dean grinned, winking and simultaneously pulling his old, scruffy boots onto his feet. "You just looked so peaceful..."

Sam swore, now in the midst of pulling a shirt on. "Just hurry up and get your crap, Dean," he sighed, jumping up and grabbing his bag. Dean followed suit, whistling cheerily as he opened the old, wooden door, obviously splendidly happy with himself and how the day had progressed already.

Sam had found his cheery mood annoying at the time, but little did he know, he would do anything to get Dean back into that mood just a few minutes later.

"_What the f_—," Dean said slowly, once they had arrived next to his beloved car. His eyes narrowed, and Sam edged around the car to see what he was glaring at.

"_Sam, did you do this?_" Dean was hissing through this teeth. Sam took one look at the driver's side of the car and moaned.

_Thought I would help with the rust on this piece of crap_, was keyed into the side of the car.

"Wha—no, of course not, Dean!" he said, his eyebrows raised. Dean's eye spasmed a little.

"Then who the hell did?" Sam didn't take it as a good sign when Dean's temple started throbbing, almost at breaking point. "_Who the hell would do this to MY BABY?!"_

"Dean!" Sam hissed through his teeth, glancing around nervously. "Stop yelling! People are going to start to look this way!"

It was, however, too late by the time he had delivered the warning—almost everyone in the lot was now glancing over perplexedly, trying to see what Dean was so upset about. Dean vented his anger at the 'attacker' of his car by aiming a kick at the side of it, which was followed by a loud gasp.

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry!" Dean said loudly to the Impala, sinking down to his knees and looking on the verge of tears. "I swear I didn't mean to hurt you! Why do people insist on abusing you so? _WHY?"_

Everyone who had been staring looked away in alarm, many of them rushing to get into their hotel rooms or cars, and away from the insane man... who, by the way, was now stroking the side of the car, almost screaming, "Never again! Imma look after you, baby, even if it kills me!"

"Dean!" Sam hissed through his teeth, grabbing under his armpits and hoisting him up. "Come on! We can get this fixed, but for now, let's just go!"

"Baby, I'm going to fix this," Dean said, almost bawling, and still stroking the side of his car. "Even if you do have that horrible thing on the side of you, I'm not going to be embarrassed! It just goes to show that you can withstand even the most horrible of abuse!"

Sam almost pushed Dean into the driver's seat, shut the door and then plopped into the passenger's seat. As the Impala drove away, someone stood, almost completely concealed by the bushes, but peeking over to see what the driver's reaction. She held a keyring in her hand, swinging it round and round her finger.

"That's what you get for not tipping me," she grinned, striding into, and across the lot, all the time looking incredibly smug.

* * *

Well, what do you think? :) This is my first attempt at writing Supernatural fanfiction - I used to write on this account, under the name Jacob Black Love, but only Twilight stories - so, tell me what you think. I'm a little rusty, so please, tell me what I can do to improve.

Cheers :)


	2. Taste My Wrath

Hey! Due to... well, not the immense success of this story, but, well, some people requesting Dean's wrath, I decided I would write up a second chapter for you guys :) Sorry if it's not very good, I kind of rushed it, but... yeah. Review? :)

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Supernatural, every episode would feature Dean with his shirt off.

* * *

It was a week later. The Impala was all shiny and, well, the way Dean loved her again. Everything was back to normal—except for one thing.

"Dean, seriously, you have _got _to get over this crap. Apart from the fact that we're never even going to find the culprit, you've gone _insane_."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? They hurt my baby, I hurt them," Dean replied, a wicked glint in his eye.

Sam sighed. "Whatever, dude."

"Hey, so, who would have done this?" Dean cupped his face in his hand thoughtfully. "Where did we go that day? And did I do anything to make anyone angry?"

"Knowing you, probably."

Dean groaned. "Shut up, Sammy, you ain't helping."

"Yeah, yeah. So, um... it got scratched up when we were at that diner, right?"

"Yeah, after we'd paid."

"Ye—aw!" A sudden grin broke out across Sammy's face and Dean's eyebrows drew together.

"What?"

"I bet it was that waitress that you refused to tip!" Sam exclaimed, and Dean groaned.

"Of course!" Dean said loudly, throwing his hands up into the air. "Ah! Why can't I meet just one chick that isn't batshit crazy?!"

"Um, Dean, I hate to tell you, but when you found that someone had keyed your car, you broke down and started yelling."

"That's different."

"I don't see how..."

"Ugh, it just is. Now, c'mon, let's go back to that place and find that son of a bitch."

"What do you plan to do to her once we're there, Dean? Hack her up or something? You can't do that."

"Sure," Dean muttered darkly.

Sam raised his eyebrows, and Dean sighed. "Naw, I'll probably just demand to know why she hurt my baby, and if she doesn't comply..."

"_Dean_."

"Aw, fine! I'll demand she pay me the bill for getting her fixed!"

"Dean, Bobby fixed the Impala for you for free."

"Ah, so young and naive. She doesn't need to know that, now, does she?"

Sam sighed and Dean slid into the driver's seat, a big grin on his face. "You comin', Sasquatch?" Dean called, and Sam rolled his eyes a little as he pulled himself into the passenger's seat.

* * *

"That's her," Dean hissed, his eyes reduced to tiny slits as he glared at the woman who had 'abused his baby'.

"Uh... so, what do we do now?"

"Go in for the kill," he muttered gleefully, and then added, after seeing Sam's face, "not literally."

Dean jumped out from behind the bush they were painfully crouched behind and started yelling. "Hey! Lady!"

The woman looked over and her eyes widened to the sizes of saucers. She looked like she wanted to run, but she instead stayed frozen in place. Her mouth was cocked into a small 'o' shape.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you," Dean growled, marching forward. She managed to slip out of her trance.

"Can I h-help you?" she stuttered, backing away a little.

"Yeah," Dean said, glaring. "You can give me $350."

"_What?_" she said loudly. "Are you kidding me? Are you... mugging me?"

"Naw, not mugging, _friend_," Dean said, his nostrils flaring. "More like... asking for the freakin' amount it took to fix my goddamn car!"

The lady blinked twice and then a grin slowly spread across her face.

"Hey, I remember younow!" she said, letting a giant "Ha!" escape her lips.

"Something funny?" Dean said, cocking his eyebrow.

"Yeah, just the fact that I know your weakness."

"Don't mess with me, lady. Give me the goddamn money."

"Hmm... no. How about this, though?" Her face looked thoughtful for a moment and then she said, "Give me $30 or I'll scratch your baby up."

"_What?_" Dean hissed. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"Nah, I just want my tip."

"Well, you sure as hell ain't getting it!"

"Are you sure about that?" she grinned, edging closer to Dean's beloved car. Dean let out a small yelp.

"Don't touch her!" Dean yelled. She paused in her tracks, smirking.

"Give me the money, and I'll leave her alone."

"B-but...!"

"C'mon, you know what'll happen if you don't..."

_Four minutes later..._

"Thanks," the lady smirked, walking away, counting the money pressed in her hand. She smiled in satisfaction as she heard the roar of the crappy black car.

She was stopped in her tracks as she reached the bottom of the pile of money.

There was a single piece of white paper, signed with only a few words: _You might want to check on _your _car._

She gulped, speeding her pace up, and let a single cry escape her lips as she saw the state of her car.

It was totally wrecked. The windscreen was smashed in, and one of the doors was barely attached. The car had been attacked with spray paint, and the only bit of the actual paint job that was visible had something keyed into the side.

And it said...

_I told you not to mess with me._

She groaned. $30 was not all she'd gotten today. She'd gotten served.


End file.
